Walking on Eggshells
by keeleyann
Summary: In which I, Lizzy Bennet, heroine of this story, attempt to find ways to sabotage my sister’s wedding, hide my other sister’s pregnancy, and make peace between my warring parents. And did I mention kill William Darcy?


_**Walking on Eggshells**_

In which I, Lizzy Bennet, heroine of this story, attempt to find ways to sabotage my sister's wedding, hide my other sister's pregnancy, and make peace between my warring parents. And did I mention kill William Darcy?

Chapter 1

Topsy Turvey

_In which I describe my family. Attempt to contain your joy._

Life comes at you fast, or so the insurance commercials run. One minute, your best friend in the entire world (and sister) is embracing her freedom and independence and the next she's engaged to a high-profile tax lawyer with a III at the end of his name. To make matters worse, your parents announce their imminent divorce and your baby sister drops out of high school to purse a modeling career. Meanwhile, you're juggling law school, relationships, and a dog named Marlowe.

Funny how things work out.

Not that I'm unhappy for Jane. She and Charles are truly _**perfect**_ for one another, and they always look sickeningly happy together. It's just that she's so young. I mean, twenty-seven is hardly the age to be sacrificing yourself at the alter. Jane is beautiful and sweet and smart and Charles is all of those things too…he's just so _solid_. And solidarity is so _boring_. In college, Jane was a fire-eating wild-child (okay…maybe that's an exaggeration) who promised the world that she would never get married. Now she's all ready to settle down and accept responsibility and wear aprons and cook macaroni and cheese and attend bridge parties and discuss recipes. I mean, this is Jane Bennet, _my_ sister. Bennets are no good at marriage. Take my parents, for instance.

Dad and Mom are great, or Dad is, at least. Mom and I never really get along. I love her and everything…I am a very Dutiful Daughter, but she gets on my ever-loving last nerve. Our relationship is more of Long Distance thing than gushy-gushy Mommy's My Biggest Confidante even though we live about twenty minutes apart. Dad and I, on the other hand, get along swimmingly, to borrow our favorite British expression. Anyway, I was not surprised when they announced the Divorce; let's face it, our entire family had expected it for years. Dad is a very laid-back, whatever-happens-I'll-still-have-my-beer kind of guy, and Mom is like the Energizer bunny on steroids. She is also seriously bi-polar, although she'd never admit it to anyone.

Dad was the one who got the ball rolling on the Divorce front; Mom shed buckets of tears and went through who knows how many boxes of Kleenex, but she had her eye on our next-door neighbor for months and apparently thought she had a good enough shot with him to dump Dad. Yeah, David the photographer definitely helped ease the divorce process for her. In the end, everybody was happy…and we were able to ditch the family therapist and save money. I guess it was kind of sad, in a way, that they decided to split, but, then again, I knew that Dad deserved better, and so did Mom, in a way. Dad used to say all the time that he married Mom when he was drunk, and it had been one of the stupidest mistakes in his life, and, as much as I love Dad, that wasn't exactly the most Lancelotish thing to say.

So, in the end, it was not Jane's sudden engagement or Dad and Mom's divorce that put a serious kink in my perfectly ordered universe, although they did send me flying out of orbit for a while. No, it was Lydia, my baby sister. _**She**_ was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Earlier, I referred to Jane as a fire-eating wild child, but, in comparison to Lydia, she's a saint. Lydia Bennet is, without doubt, the Paris Hilton of the Bennet family. I can think of no better comparison. Lydia has always been a very independent girl (kudos to her for that), but she has also always been a very empty-headed one. Not that she lacks for brains-she's very smart when she wants to be. What Lydia lacks, however, is common sense, and she's always flaunted her lack of it. Lydia _**flaunts**_ everything. So, I guess it _should_ have been no surprise when she dropped out of high school (the _**last**_ semester of her _**senior**_ year) and ran away to Los Angeles to pursue a modeling career. But it was. A _**major**_ surprise. And since Dad and Mom were finalizing the divorce and Jane was embroiled in wedding plans with Gustav, some hoity-toity French wedding planner, I was the lucky person sent to retrieve her.

I found Lydia, convinced her to come back home (or, rather, forcibly coerced), and was prepared to forgive her when…

She announced she was pregnant.

To _**me**_. And then she made me swear to keep it a secret and help her in her 'dilemma' and tell no one. And I agreed, because I was trying to play the whole 'Selfless Sister'/ 'Devoted Daughter' persona, and I couldn't force Lydia (and Lydia Jr.) on Jane, Mom, or Dad when they were going through their weddings/divorces.

So Lydia came to live with me in my apartment (which, might I add, could barely fit me and my room-mate Charlotte, let alone a pregnant and wild younger sister), and, for a time, everything returned to order.

And then William Darcy walked into the picture, and everything went topsy-turvy again…


End file.
